SOLDIERS*  TRACT  ASSOCIATION,  ?  Nq,  99, 

^ — -  Richmond,  Va.  ^ 

♦  * 

OF, 

THE  DYING  FATHER  AND  HIS  SON, 

BY    A    MINISTER   OF    THE    QOSPEL. 


^Ir  duties  as  a  pastor  brought  me  into  connexion  with 
Mr.  *R — ,  iind  I  had  frequent  opportunities  of  meeting 
Kim.  Ho  occupied  a. quiet  and  beautiful  residence,  Avhich 
pffered  a  pleasing  and  attractive  sojourn  to  all  who  were 
permitted  to  sharo  in  its  hospitality.  To  this  friendly 
resting-place  a  Chrislian  stranger  could  find  easy  admis* 
sion,  and  was  always  welcome.  The  eye  saw^nothing  to 
offend,  and  the  Qar  heard  nothing  to  make  th#  mind  un- 
easy. IcPBtead  of  cold  courtesies  and  formal  smiles,  here 
was  apparently,  and  perhaps  really,  the  warm  and  genuine 
feeling  of  unaffected  kindness. 

But  this  ♦louse, — where  all  seemed  prosperous  and  fair, 
where  without  was  the  incense  of  flowers,  the  melody  of 
birds,  and  the  beauty  of  prospect,  while  rich  resources 
abounded  within, — this  house  was  soon  ai;d  suddenly  to 
be  the  house  of  mourning.  The  messenger  of  death  was 
at  the  door,  though  unseen  ;  he  bad  his  warrant  for  the 
owner,  far  as  the  thought  of  such  a  visitor  was  from  him. 

The  calmest  and  most  beautiful  sky  may  have  upon  it 
9i  email  but  ihreiatening  cloud,  which  may  soon  spread  its 
self  in  dreadfal  tdinpest  through  the  heavens.    So  sti'd- 


2  ONE    SIN. 

denly  was  the  sunshine  of  this  abode  darkened  by  afflic- 
tion and  deatli. 

I  missed  Mr.  R—  from  his  seat  in  his  place  of  worghip. 
He  was  not  often  absent ;  and  I  called  to  know  the  cause. 
I  missed  him  the  more,  as  it  was  his  custom  to  stay  a  lit- 
tle while  after  the  congregation  was  ^one,  and  converse 
about  the  sermon.  He  appeared  to, tak§  great  interest  in 
what  had  been  the  subject  of  the  discourse.  In  hearing 
he  seemed  thoughtful  and  interested,  and  his  manner  waa 
outwardly  such  as  becomes  a  worshipper  of  the  Most  Hise,h 
Ood.  The  pride  and  importance  of  property,  the  ostenta- 
tion of  station  or  rank,  so  often  painfully  seen  in  tho 
house  of  God,  received  no  encouragement  from  his  exam- 
ple. His  [^ood  sense,  I  trust,  sitrank  from  the  offensive 
spectacle  of  a  poor  guilty  mortal  approaching  the  infinite 
Majesty  with  idle  parade,  from  having  o  little  more  wealth 
than  his  fellow  worms  of  the"  earth.  He  sometimes  v^lule 
listening  had  an  earnest  and  eager  louk,  which  would  lead 
to  an  encouraging  hope  that  he  might  benefit  by  what  ho, 
heard.  But  how  affecting  and  lamentable  to  t-ay  that 
here  the  matter  eeems  to  have  ended.  A  degree  of  iutor« 
est  was  shown  ;  but  his-after  history  plainly  proved  it  to 
be  only  passing  and  without  root.  Real  religion  ie  not  a 
motnent's  excitement.  It  is  a  principle  of  holiness  in  the 
Boul  wrought  by  the  renewing  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit> 
and  will  be  seen  in  trhe  forsaking  of  all  sin  for  Christ. 
Sin,  though  as  dear  as  tho  right  e^e,  will  be  plucked  outi 
The  sacrifice  must  and  will  be  made  if  there  Ub  real  con- 
cern, for  the  soul,  and  real  love  to  Christ. 

When  I  called  upon  Mr.  R — ,  I  found  him  very  ill,  but 
lying  on  a  sofa.  His  large  and  powerful  frame  was  re- 
duced in  a  few  days  to  great  waste  and  weakness.  Ho 
lay  pale  and  melancholy,  and,  for  the  most  part,  silent ; 
the  shadow  of  what  he  had  been.  The  anoient  and  with- 
ered tree  when  shivered  by  lightning  excites  little  Bvmpa' 
thy.  bTit  the  oak  ia  itg  prlja?,  aa^l  vp-ith  its  brigbt  lives' 


R3fZ 

ONE    Sllf .  .  8  'R>n^* 


\SJ^ 


one  who  so  lately  had  been  vigorous,  a  prostrate  and  wast- 
ing man. 

From  the  first  he  was  possessed  with  the  idea  that  his 
illness  was  mortal,  that  his  dreaded  enemy  was  not  far 
away.  He  was  miserable ;  he  trembled  ;  he  would  have 
shut  his  eyes  from  the  fearful  vision  that  was  before  him, 
but  it  was  of  no  use.  His  earthly  enjoyments  were  gone, 
and  he  awoke  as  from  a  dream  to  his  real  situation.  lie 
saw  himself  as  a  being,  not  only  of  time,  but  of  eternity  ; 
and  perceived  that  this  was  not  a  thought  or  theory  mere- 
ly, but  a  great  practical  fact.  He  felt  every  hotrr  to  by 
hastening  on  the  dreadful  proof  ot  its  reality,  and  he  per- 
ceived the  great  interest  he  had  at  stake  ;  lie  had  a  soul 
to  lose.  Ah!  who  can  tell  the  power  of  this  fact  when 
fully  seen  ?^  Ev5ry  faculty  was  in  tumultuous  motion. 
Thoughts,  as  fiery  darts  from  the  world  to  come,  made  him 
afraid  of  himself.  What  was  to  become  of  his  soul,  was 
now  a  thought  there  wavS.no  getting  rid  of.  He  was  really 
an  unconverted  man.  He  ha<l  no  ground  of  consolation. 
The  night  was  upon  him.  Profession  alone  was  felt  to  be 
n  thing;  rather,  if  anything,  an  aggravation  of  his  case. 
He  had  made  many  outward  oiferings  to  God,  but  had  held 
back  himself.  The  sin  dearest  to  him  he  had  never  given 
up.  The  spell  of  false  hope  vanished  in  a  dying  chamber. 
The  artificial  gilding  of  a  name  will  not  do  for  a  dying 
man.  As  the  eye  may  be  blinded  bj  the  light  of  the  s-un,- 
so  the  mind  may  he  blfnded  by  a  name  while  we  have 
health  and  strength,  but  it  will  not  often  do  for  the  hour 
of  death.  Few  men  are  really  deceived  then,  and  it  is 
vain  to  try  to  impose  upon  the  Judge  of  nil,  or  trifle  with 
Him  by  a  lie.  God  is  not  mocked ;  "  whatsoever  a  man 
soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap." 

Mr  R —  got  w  irso,  I  went  often  to  see  him.  A^pep- 
er  melatu'holy  came  over  him.  O.i  my  entr:ino*^  he  wrmid 
extead  his  hand  to  me  in  t^ilence.  Toe  gl^um  of  ihe  poo*' 
felon  under  sentence  of  death  seemed  to  be  upon  him. 
His  very  eyos  seemed  to  retire  from  all  outward  commu- 


P34221 


4  ONE   SIN. 

nion.  He  listened  without  replying  when  I  urged  him  to 
repent  and  believe  the  gospel.  His  countenance  bore  the 
outward  traces  of  inward  conjQicts.  I  think  of  his  thoughts 
at  this  time  as  like  the  rolling  of  dark  clouds  upon  one 
another  in  wild  disorder.  The  chief  interruptions  to  long 
intervals  of  silence  -were  heavy  and  long  sighs,  approach- 
ing to  a  deep  moan.  But  how  could  anything  otherwise 
be  looked  for  in  such  a  trial,  when  all  efforts  failed  to  move, 
and  where  the  soul  was  not  right  with  God  or  prepared  to 
meet  him?  ^ 

Mr.  R —  had  lived  many  years  a  professor  of  religion. 
He  had  entertained  many  servants  of  Christ,  and  seemed 
to  relish  intercourse  with  them.  But  holiness  is  not  ob- 
tained by  acquaintance  with  holy  and  eminent  men,  as 
sun-beams  do  not  permanently  impart  tfieir  brightness  to 
the  object  they  may  shine  upon.  He  knew  what  true  god- 
liness was.  lie  could  distinguish  the  false  from  the  true, 
the  form  from  the  inward  living  spirit.  But  while  he 
gave — and  gave  liberally  of  his  substance— he  would  not 
give  his  heart.  The  sacrifice  was  there,  but  not  himself; 
and  no  fire  from  heaVen  acknowledged  it.  He  wanted  to 
serve  two  masters.  There  was  a  secret  nin,  carefully  con- 
cealed, whi<ih  he  would  not  give  up.  He  loved  it  more 
than  the  salvation  of  his  soul.  He  knew  he  slighted  by 
it  the  agonies  of  the  cross  and  the  glories  of  redemption. 
He  knew  he  exposed  his  soul  to  p.erdition  by  this  sin,  and 
that  there  was  no  escape  from  the  holy  law  that  condemn- 
ed him'.  He  was  conscious  he  was  not  a  changed  man, 
had  not  passed  from  death  unto  life  by  the  renewing  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  or  all  sin  would  have  been  forsaken  ;  and 
when  he  awoke  fully  to  the  truth  of  his  awful  situation, 
he  felt  overwhelmed  with  the  calamity  his  sin  had  brought" 
upo»  him.  He  now  counted  the  cost  of  it,  in  prospect  of 
the  endless  sufferings  of  the  sinner  who  dies  in  his  sins. 
Placed  on  the  verge  of  mortal  things,  it  required  no  effort 
to  realize  the  great  and  alarming  disclosures  of  revelation 
as  to  the  end  of  the  wicked.    When  felt  as  real,  wl;o  shall 


ONE   SIN.  O 

describe  their  effect  on  the  mini^?  It  is  the  wrath  to  come; 
.  the  wrath  of  God  revealed  against  all  uniighteousnej-s ;  a 
consuming  fire  brought  into  the  soul.  Guilt  brought  home 
to  the  conscience  is  a  calamity  which  human  ppeech  pan 
give  no  name  to  ;  but  such  is  the  infatuating  power  of 
sin,  man  rushes  upon  his  ruin.  Strange  as  it  may  seem, 
tlie  sin  that  slew  this  unhappy  man  ho  clung  to  even  in 
his'iilness.  It  was  his  love  of  brandy  at  all  hours;  the 
excitement  it  produced  held  him  captive.  Its  power  so 
gained  upon  him  by  habit,  he  got  blind  or  reckless  in  re- 
grfl;d  to  the  sin  of  indulging  in  it,  and  it  triumphed  over 
him.  No  misei^ever  looked  upon  his  gold  with  a  more 
fatal  enchantment  than  poor  Mr.  R —  upon  this  cup  of 
woe.  Such  is  the  force  of  sin  to  darken  and  infatuate  the 
soul,  till  the  terrible  revolution  of  a  dying  hour  forces  it* 
within  the  influence  and  light  of  the  world  to  come. 

Mr.  R —  gradually  wasted  away  ;  his  last  hours  unillu- 
miiied,  as  it  seemed,  by  a  single  ray  of  hope.  I  never 
heard  a  word  from  him  that  showed  his  mind  was  at  rest. 
JUI  comfort  fled  from  him.  He  bad  read  of  others  who 
had  died  in  triumph  ;  he  had  seen  oth'ers  die  in  faith,  with 
■a  blessed  hope  of  endletis  joy  ;  he  had  read  of  exceeding 
great  and  precious  promises,  to  uphold  the  soul  in  death  ; 
but  none  of  these  appeared  to  be  his  portion  or  privilege: 
1)18  sin,  it  is  ^j  be  feared,  had  ruined  hi^soiil  for  ever. 
He  had  rend  cf  heaven,  talked  of  heaven,  sung  of  heaven, 
and  prayed  with  those  who  earnestly  sought  it,  and  went 
in  company  with  them  ;  but  in  death  he  was  divided,  a;nd 
had  no  hope  of  their  blessedness.  He  was,  as  far  as  man 
can  see,  the  guest  without  the  wedding  garment. 

As  he  grew  worse,  the  sofa  was  exchanged  for  the  bed  ; 
'silence  reigned  through  the  chamber,  and  an  air  of  op- 
•presyion  on  every  countenance.  And  how  did  the  pale 
sufferer  look,  while  every  moment  had  a  mighty  emphasis 
in  it,  as  it  brought  on  the  great  crisis  or  change  from  time 
to  eternity?  There  was  deep  silence  and  a  gloom  as  if 
hope  were  estinguished,  an  outward  appearance  as  though 


b  GNK   STI^. 

the  soul  were  in  secret  audience  with  the  sin  that  slew  it, 
shut  up  in  company  with  its  tormentor  without  power  to 
escape  from  it.  In  this  solemn  silence  poor  Mr.  R — 
passed  into  the  valley  and  shadow  of  death. 

0  ye  rich  men,  who  give  to  ministers  and  missions,  who 
build  sanctuaries  and  support  religious  societies,  and  who 
are  the  pillars  and  ornaments  of  them,  let  the  great  truth 
come  to  you,  that  all  this  by  itself  will  not  do  for  the 
searching  of  a  sick  bed,  X)r  the  trial  of  a  dying  hour. 
You  must,  if  you  would  be  saved,  give  yourself  to  God, 
the  Saviour,  in  repentance,  in  faith  and  love,  a  holy  livijjg 
sacrifice.  The  most  costly  gifts,  without  this  surrender, 
are  a  vatn  show.  The  true  way  of  salvation  is  plain  ;-^ 
the  humiliation  of  the  soul  in  real  repentance,  and  ftiith 
Wn  the  sacrifice  of  the  cross,  aud  its  fruits  revealed  in  a 
holy  life  and  conversation.  Believe,  then,  on  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved  ; — saved  from  all — 
from  every  sin  ;  for  the  bloOd  of  Christ  cleansoth  from  all 
sin.  But  as  one  spark  may  burn  a  building,  so  one  sin 
indulged  in,  must  and  will  destroy  the  soul  in  hell. 

Ac  the  grave  of  poor  Mr.  R —  there  was  a  son,  wlio 
wept  at  his  funeral.  He  had  watched  at  his  side  in  his 
sickness;  he  had  been  a  witness  of  his  father's  sorrows 
and  sin  ;  he  had  held  his  hand  in  the  convulsive  struggles 
of  death,  and  saw  the  last  look  he  gave  on  earth.  This 
son  not  very  long  before  had  been  near  to  ^ath'  himself, 
lie  was  given  over  by  his  physician,  and  from  a  malady 
brought  on  by  the  very  sin  that,  it  is  to  be  feared,  destroy- 
ed the  soul  of  his  father.  But  with  this  remembrance 
fresh  upon  hira,  his  father's  death,  his  own  wonderful  re- 
covery, with  his  promises  and  prayers  for  the  future,  he 
turned. again,  just  after  he  folio w6d  liis  father  to  the  grave,- 
to  the  same  fatal  sin,  and  not  many  weeks  after  I  attended^ 
the  deathbed  scene  <>f  this  son  also,  through  a  disease 
brought  on  again  by  the  same  sinful  pract  ce.  I  sat  night 
after  night  with  the  son,  as  I  had  done  with  the  father. 
I  spoke  to  hira,  I  prayed  with  him  also.    I  labored  to  do 


ONE   SIN.  7 

him  good,  by  urging  to  repentance  and  faith  in  Chriet. 
The  sou  had  JQfet  resisted  the  warning  voice  from  heaven, 
louder  than  many  thunders,  with  which  the  alarming 
providence  of  God  had  visited  him  in  his  illness.  He  had 
trifled  with  God's  mercy  and  his  own  vows,  when  bo  lately 
restored  to  health  from  the  brink  of  the  grave,  and  his 
guilt  was  great.  But  ho  needed  not  any  remonstrance  to 
make  him  miserable.  vSuch  was  his  restlessness,  he  could 
hardly  lie  in  bed.  ,  His  despondency  and  gloom  were  deep 
as.  midnight.  The  kind  attentions  of  wife  or  daughter 
could  not  relieve  him  from  the  horrid  haunting  of  a  guilty 
conscienco.  His  look  was  that  of  a  terrified  victim  in  tho 
clutches  of  some  monster  enemj.  I  fear  his  spirit  gained 
no  relief  by  prayer  or  exhortation.  Accusing  thoughts  of 
his  ingratitude  and  guilt  had  apparently  sot  in,  in  a  strong 
purrent,  and  it  was  not  long  before  his  spirit  was.  sum- 
moned into  the  presence  of  its  Maker  and  Judge.  Thua 
also  passed  aTfay  the  son  of  poor  Mr  R. — . 

Here  are  the  triumphs  and  trophies  of  sin — of  even  one 
sin.  The  power  of  one  sin,  let  it  be  what  it  may,  whether 
the  love  of  gold  or  the  lovo  of  power,  the  lust  of  the  eye 
or  the  lust  of  pleaeore,  if  allowed,  can  force  onward  the 
soul  toau  endless  misery,  though  warnings',  like  mount^na 
with  beacon  fires,  stand  in  their  way.  0  reader!  if  one 
particular  sin  be  your  chief  snare,  tremble,  and  break  tho 
spell.  Call  on  God,  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  help  you  with  all 
his  blessed  influences  in  the  struggle.  Flee  to  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  for  safety.  Let  there  be  no  hesitation.  It  is 
a  matter  of  life  and  death  ;  eternal  life  or  eternal  death  ! 
But  it  is  not  one  sin  only,  but  all  sin  that  must  be  given 
up  in  heart  and  practice,  and  this  will  be  the  desire  and 
aim  of  all  who  by  faith  in  Christ  are  truly  "  the  sons  of 
God  ;"  for  of  all  such  it  is  said,  "  When  He  shall  appear, 
wo  8hall  be  like  him  ;  for  we  shallsee  him  as  ho  is.  And 
every  man  that  hath  this  hope  in  hipa  purifiotb  himcelf, 
etBB  ae  He  iBftjre.'    IJtJhn  iii,  2,  3. 


Hollinger  Corp. 
pH  8.5 


